If you ordered the Fly Fishing Guide to the Farmington River through an outside vendor, it should start shipping tomorrow. Yeeeee-hawww!!!! I’ve changed my tune a wee bit on selling copies directly to you; if you would prefer to get a signed, inscribed copy from me, you still can. You’ll find out how if you click here.
I’m pleased to announce that once again, Tony Lolli has featured me in his At the Vise column in On The Water magazine. The format has shifted a bit; instead of a “guide flies” focus, it’s more of a profile, and it also features the book.
You know that guy! On The Water is a terrific magazine with excellent photography and printed on a paper stock that feels good in your hands. Well worth seeking out. There’s an digital version, too. Many thanks to Tony for letting me play again.
Finally, the International Fly Tying Symposium has moved from Somerset, NJ, to Lancaster, PA. Lancaster is a ~most excellent~ space — it’s where they hold the Fly Fishing Show. This year’s IFTS is November 21-22. More details to come!
I have neglected the Farmington this month most cruelly. I understand the fishing has been excellent in spite of the low water, but I have been pulled in some other directions.
But not yesterday. Yesterday was one of those summer flow spikes I look for, the kind that puts some color in the water and chases most of the anglers away. The plan on those days is to throw streamers and look for a big ol’ brown that’s been hiding under a logjam for the past few weeks and is now in the hunt for a protein payoff. Yesterday I fished a full-sink tip line with an assortment of weighted and non-weighted streamers — trying to present at several levels in the water column — in both muted and bright colors. I walked about 500 yards of water, pounding the banks, waiting for that roll at the surface or that dull thud below.
It never came. The plan was go big or go home, and since I didn’t do the former — not a touch in two hours — I did the latter. But oh, man, it felt wondrous to be back.
Bring your waders if you want to sit. The water was moderately stained, 650cfs, and 64 degrees in the PTMA. As you read this, the flow has dropped dramatically and has cleared up, making for excellent conditions this weekend.
First, thank you to everyone who requested a personalized, signed copy. I received over 50 requests, which was fantastic!
But less than half of you have mailed a check or made an e-transfer. The situation is that I’m not going to the P.O. every day. I’m waiting to get at least 12 orders processed before I make a trip, and I’d like to be done with this ASAP. I don’t want to be doing this in September. The first dozen books went out last Friday. The next dozen are going out tomorrow. Then, it’s wait for 12 more orders to be finalized. So please don’t delay. Besides, you really, really need this book now. Dontcha?
In case you missed it, here’s what you need to do: 1) Pay me. Between the my cost of the book, packaging materials, and postage, it’s a nice, even $50. You can do one of three things: mail a check to me at Steve Culton, P.O. Box 657, Durham, CT 06422; pay me via Venmo (@Steven-Culton) which I prefer, or second choice PayPal (Steven Culton). Easy-squeezy.
2) Send me your address. Email your shipping address to swculton@yahoo.com. Please do not post your address on this website. Please remember I cannot ship outside the U.S. Ditto easy-squeezy.
3) Wait. Hopefully, just a little. I’m not going to schlepp down to the P.O. every day; rather, I’ll try to send them out in batches of 10 or 15 or whatever, as orders trickle in. I’ll send you an email back when your book is shipped.
If you’ve already squared up, this could be your book…
Finally, the day you’ve been waiting for! I got a visit from the UPS guy, who dropped off three cartons of shiny new books for me to sign and send off to you.
If you’re one of the 50 or so people who signed up for a personalized, signed copy, here’s what you need to do:
1) Pay me. Between the my cost of the book, packaging materials, and postage, it’s a nice, even $50. You can do one of three things: mail a check to me at Steve Culton, P.O. Box 657, Durham, CT 06422; pay me via PayPal (Steven Culton); or pay me via Venmo (@Steven-Culton). Easy-squeezy.
2) Send me your address. Email your shipping address to swculton@yahoo.com. Please do not post your address on this website. Please remember I cannot ship outside the U.S. Ditto easy-squeezy.
3) Wait. Hopefully, just a little. I’m not going to schlepp down to the P.O. every day; rather, I’ll try to send them out in batches of 10 or 15 or whatever, as orders trickle in. I’ll send you an email back when your book is shipped.
I thank you for your excitement, your enthusiasm, and your patience. I can’t wait for you to read this book!
Let’s get the bad mojo out of the way: the Block Island stripers-from-the-shore fishery has officially cratered. Five nights, not a touch. (What?!?!?!) More details on the misery to come.
On the exciting news side, my author’s copies of the Fly Fishing Guide to the Farmington River have arrived. These are not the ones I have earmarked for sale to you (those people who have said they want a signed copy, and if you haven’t, it’s still not too late to reserve one). The book looks and feels great, and I’m beyond pleased with how it came out.
For those who have reserved a signed copy: my order with the publisher has been placed. My guess is that the books will arrive sometime in the next two weeks, hopefully on the shorter side of that. The mailers have been ordered. I just need to calculate the cost to you, and set up payment, which will be check, Venmo, or PayPal. I’m hoping to have that information to you this week. I thank you for your patience. Really. Hang tight, and you’ll be reading before you know it.
Let’s clarify: too much rain is harmful, even dangerous. But that’s not what we’re talking about today. We’re talking about a parched state that was experiencing some form of drought for several weeks. Then the rains came. From the July 4th weather brawl through yesterday, the skies were open for a much-needed watering.
At first, even though the rainfall could be measured in inches, there was no visible impact to our two major fly fishing rivers, the Farmington and the Housatonic. Two factors were in play: the ground was a dry sponge, and the trees and vegetation were in full leaf, meaning you had millions of thirsty plants. But eventually, the rivers got their share. The Hous has yet to spike, rising more than double its 350cfs pre-rain mark. The Farmington experience was more of an exercise in moderation. The Unionville gauge merely doubled from 250. The Still River, which meets the Farmington below Riverton, experienced a huge percentile flow boost. However, it was only coming in at a paltry 15cfs, and its spike didn’t even reach 200cfs.
We desperately needed this rain, and I’m thankful for it. But not just from a systemic ecological point-of-view.
Not that dramatic. Nonetheless, much needed and appreciated.
You see, I’m a total weather and stream flow nerd. I watch the River Data app like a hawk. (If you don’t have this app, get it. River Data provides on-demand access to cfs in select rivers throughout the US, and you can bookmark your favorite watersheds for fast reference.) Throughout the season, I eagerly anticipate rain events that will spike rivers — not too high, not too low. I’m looking for elevated river flows that introduce some amount of color to the water — not chocolate milk, but more like tea. This is when you can experience some of the best nymphing, and especially streamer action of the season. What’s more, water spikes shuffle the deck, move fish around, and provide a respite from warmer water temperatures.
You don’t need to wade very far from the shore. (In extreme cases, that may not be possible. Rules of thumb: never wade in water where you can’t see the bottom; never wade in water that you’re not very familiar with; never wade without a staff and spiked boots; never wade alone.) The fish, like you, aren’t interested in battling swift or raging currents. They’re close to shore, in pockets, behind structure, seeking the most moderate flows that will provide cover and food. In particular, I like to fish streamers in these conditions because the news gets even better: cfs and color spikes are when the big boys come out to play. These are often your best periods to up your chances of catching big fish, and sometimes multiple big fish. I like bigger flies, flies that create a commotion, and I will use both bright and dark colors, usually with equal success.
I just finished a yummy egg-and-cheese omelet with a side of bacon and a glass of my spicy tomato juice. And, I’m drinking a lovely cup of Columbian coffee with a tiny splash of milk as I write this. That’s right, folks, the colonoscopy is over and we’re eating with a vengeance for the rest of the day. I think perhaps pizza for lunch. Dinner is going to be leftover pulled pork and other trad BBQ sides. What?!? No beer after anesthesia? I’ll have to suffer through. Speaking of which, those of you who have suffered through the 24-hour pre-procedure prep know of which I speak. I mean, I eat five meals a day. For me, no solid food for 36 hours is a Greek tragedy. It’s hydration day, too, and then tomorrow we’re back on the program.
Last week, I guided Sheila and Nikki on the Farmington for a wet fly lesson. We fished the mid-to-lower PTMA. Hatches were light — this was mid afternoon. They both did very well with the method, and Nikki scored a gorgeous mid-teens wild brown on a Partridge and Orange (you can see the fish on my Instagram account @stevecultonflyfishing). This was her first Farmington River trout, and her first on a wet fly. We put one more in the hoop and called it a very successful outing. Great job, ladies! My spies tell me that the PTMA has been fishing well from evening into dark. It’s cornucopia bug season with Sulphurs, Isos, caddis, BWOs, midges, and more. Get on it while it’s hot.
I just finished an article for Surfcasters Journal on the importance — or not — of striper fly color. In addition to my perspective, you’ll glean insights from both surfcaster extraordinaire Toby Lapinski and sight fishing guru Alan Caolo. It’s called “Color Me Curious,” and I’ll let you know when it’s out.
I bought some new shake-and-dry product from UpCountry and will be testing it soon. I have been using Loon’s Top Ride, which I liked. This product is from TMC.
The finger is healing up nicely, as is the ankle. If you are ever in a slice-off-the-tip of your finger and the skin is hanging by a flap, the medical advice is to keep the flap on to cover the wound. Of course, you need to thoroughly clean the wound. While dead or soon to be dead, that skin is a fantastic natural bandage, and I couldn’t be more pleased with the way it healed.
Finally, with this heat dome setting up, please carry a thermometer, use it, and fish responsibly. Carry on. 🙂
I think we can all agree the late spring though summer is a swell time to be on the water. However, depending on where you fish and how much bushwhacking you’re doing, there are the downsides of ticks and Irving.
“Irving” was the childhood name we gave to poison ivy, AKA poison Irving, or, for those closest to him, Irving. A bad case of Irving was nothing to laugh about. (It still isn’t. I’ve had to get medical treatment twice as an adult for severe Irving outbreaks). But calling it Irving took a little of the edge off the itchy reality. I mention Irving because I will have an Irving rash on my body from now through most of the fall. I seem to contract it just by looking at it. As I write this, it’s on my torso, both legs, and both arms. At least it’s not on any nether parts, which is a kind of discomfort that can only be described as exquisitely cruel. I do my best to avoid it, but it’s become an unfortunate certainty. A good lather up with quality soap on water is the best defense once you’ve been exposed. I’ve used special “poison ivy soap,” but found I get the same results with Lever 2000. YMMV.
Then, there are ticks. I acquired five of these loathsome creatures last week in my garden. They weren’t nearly on me long enough to do any harm, but their ubiquity and disgusting nature makes even brushing them off a skeevy adventure. I’ve gotten in the habit of doing a tick check everywhere on my body when I come in from the river/field/woods. Another practice I started last year was treating my fishing shirts, pants, and hats with permethrin. You spray it on your clothes, let it dry, and it bonds to the fabric for six weeks or six washings.
This is the stuff. Available at Amazon.
Let’s all enjoy the great outdoors. But let’s be careful out there. Maybe next time, I’ll talk about sunscreen and bug spray.
This is a late report from last week, but it’s a report that I think is worthy of your attention. I fished the evening (virtually non-existent) rise with surfcaster extraordinaire Toby Lapinski at popular dry fly mark within the PTMA. We fished from 4:30pm-9pm. When we arrived, I was delighted to see that there were no other cars in the small dirt parting area; in hindsight, I wonder if it was because everyone else knew something I didn’t.
Here’s the bottom line: the sulphur hatch stunk like a salt marsh at low tide. I’d give it a 1 out of 10. So, that was disappointing. What was even more disappointing was the lack of fish over 8″ long. What was rising was, by and large, small wild fish, mostly brookies, with a few browns in the mix. Now, this could also be considered good news. In fact, I’ve never run into such a substantial pod of wild brook trout on the Farmington. Between us, we easily landed a dozen of them. Once, at dusk, I hooked one, and as it sped into the shallows in a desperate attempt to get free, a larger brown charged out of its hole in hot pursuit. I could see the bulge in the water as the predator neared its target; unfortunately at the last moment, the hunt was aborted. But that was cool to witness, and I wish you could have been there to see it, too!
We only put one decent fish in the hoop, this some-teen wild brown by Toby. It had three bird wounds; you can see one of them on the midway point of the fish’s flank.
I’ve been so busy in the yard this spring that I haven’t been able to get out to the Farmington as much as I’d like. But the rest of the summer is still ahead, in all its lazy, hazy, crazy glory.
I had a really weird session on the Farmington last Thursday. Despite a robust sulphur emergence — 8.5/10 — the wet fly bite stunk. Turns out it was due to a lack of fish. By my best estimate, this long time favorite pool was holding about 1/4 of the normal trout biomass. I had duns in the air, on the water, cripples galore, then mats of spinners. Instead of a boiling surface, I had….a rise here….and there… and then nothing…and then a lonely rise. It was incredibly discouraging. The feeding was over by 8:45pm, unheard of in these parts. I’m usually picking my way out of the river well after 9pm, crouched over, casting to trout sipping spinners. Not on this night.
On the plus side, I met some very nice anglers, and we shared the water with a most civil energy. Joe was trying to fool this wild brown, but just wasn’t able to connect. When he left, he offered me his spot. Second cast, bang! About 16″. Taken on a size 14 classic Catskills Light Cahill dry.
We are in prime sulphur time, which means you should have some soft hackles in your box. Here’s why:
Sulfurs take a good, long time to emerge from their shucks — and then sometimes, not at all. The trout get a good, long look at the food source as it drifts near the film. I fished this invaria cripple out of the water, and it was one of hundreds that never made it out of its nymphal case. Wet flies and soft hackles are a perfect match and method for this situation, as are dry fly cripple patterns.
I’m going to be writing an article for an upcoming issue of Surfcasters’ Journal. The subject will be the importance (or unimportance) of color in fly patterns. To the keyboard I go!
Finally, I hope to get on my horse and get some info out to everyone who requested a signed copy of the book. I’d like to do that by the end of the month. So stay tuned!
currentseams.com 